Welcome

We’re excited to announce that we’ve been invited by Wiradyuri elders to participate in the Dhuluny Project from August 10 - 18 to share the extraordinary story of Dinawan Dyirribang (Uncle Bill Allen) direct descendant of Windradyne- 1800’s Wiradyuri warrior who led the resistance against the British when they introduced Martial Law.

We’ll be exhibiting Uncle Bill’s story including stunning portraits by Tim Bauer and a short film we produced on country.

Here’s a sneak peak of the incredible reverred Bathurst Wiradyuri elder.

- Commemorating the 200th anniversary of the declaration of Martial Law on August 14,1824 with ‘The Dhuluny Project’ celebrating the resilience of the Wiradyuri nation & Aboriginal & Torres Strait Islander Peoples & honouring the fallen on all sides of the Wiradyuri Homeland wars.

We pay our respects to the Wiradyuri people, the traditional owners of the land where we photographed and filmed Uncle Bill’s story on his country. We acknowledge and pay respects to elders past, present and emerging and our deepest respects and love to Uncle Bill for honouring us with the responsibility of sharing his remarkable and historical story.

Portrait by Tim Bauer , photographed on Wiradyuri country.

“I was 8 when they took me. I was told I would be number 36. If I used my name, I was beaten, abused, and treated less than an animal in the evil Kinchela Boys’ home where we were forced to stay. People say we were STOLEN, I don’t like that word, I’m not an object, I’m a human being who was kidnapped from my family thanks to a racist government policy. I lost my culture, identity, and family and spent my whole life trying to drink my pain away, suffering. In and out of prison for 45 years. I’m still learning about my heritage and trying to heal.”

Born on the 12th of December 1951, Wailwan, Wongaibon elder, James Michael ‘Widdy’ Welsh, is affectionately known as Uncle Widdy. The father of 10 is a Stolen Generation survivor, a Kinchella Boys Home survivor. Uncle Widdy is the Treasurer of Kinchela Boys Home Aboriginal Corporation (KBHAC) in Sydney. KBHAC is committed to empowering positive, healthy peer support models that enable greater inclusion in community life, including rebuilding and strengthening identity and family structures with services to KBH survivors and their families.

“I’m from a town called Coonamble. My people are Wailwan and Wongaibon people; we are the protectors of the black duck. As an eight-year-old, I used to dance around the campfire with my Mum, Pop, and Granny. My grandfather played the violin, my mother played the piano accordion, my uncles played the gum leaves, my grandmother and sister would play the bones, and we’d dance around the campfire of a night time. We had a lot of joy and fullness, and then the journey of life ended.

We were taken away from our mother. We were put on a train, myself and my brothers and sisters, and there were seven of us. I had an older brother at that time who was 10, I was eight, we had a sister five, a brother four, another brother four, and a brother and sister six months old. We were set on a train ride, not knowing where we were going. Mum never told us, but 13 hours later, we pulled up at a place I now know as Central Station. At that station, we were separated from each other. My brother and myself went to a place called Kinchela, my other siblings were taken to different places. (I learnt later in my life where they were taken). When my brother and I went through the gates of Kinchela Boys Home, halfway between Kempsie and South West Rocks up on the North Coast, we knew that this was a bad place. There was nothing about it that looked like home or friendly. I remember walking up the stairs and they took me up to meet the man that I later learnt was the manager. From there, after what was needed to be done, they committed us to the place. I don’t like to call it a home because it wasn’t a home; it was a bad place. They took us down to a place and stripped us of our clothes, and shaved all the hair off our bodies, at that time it was just me and my brother. They threw powder over us and then took us to an incinerator so we could stand there and watch them burn all our clothes and our shoes. From there, they took us to a room, gave us clothes, and told us I was no longer to be known as Michael or my brother Barry, I was now to be known as number 36, and he was to be known as number 17. If we were ever to use our names again, we would be punished which meant a beating.”

From 1924 to 1970, under the authority of the NSW Aborigines Protection Board and its successor, the Aborigines Welfare Board, between 400 and 600 young boys (a small number of Aboriginal girls who lived too far away from a school were accommodated there in the first few years), were incarcerated at the Kinchela Aboriginal Boys' Training Home, also known as Kinchela Boys' Home and the Aboriginal Mission School in Kempsey Shire on the mid-north coast of NSW. These children were among thousands across Australia who were systemically kidnapped from their families and communities under accepted government and church policies and practices that created the Stolen Generation. The intent was to re-program them to become ‘white’, an act tantamount to cultural genocide. Kinchela Boys Home is one of the most notorious institutions associated with the Stolen Generations. Kinchela was a place where physical hardship, punishment, cruelty, alienation, and abuse (cultural, physical, psychological, and sexual) were part of the day-to-day life endured by the children. The devastating effects continue to be felt by the descendants and families of the men and women who struggle with intergenerational trauma. kinchelaboyshome.org.au

At 72 years of age, Uncle Widdy is still working to heal the trauma of his past and is a dedicated and tireless advocate in ending intergenerational trauma, “The pain must stop with us. We need the resources to restore our family structures. There’s something very important for our next generation, they must understand that they are the holders of the knowledge for the future. I’m the holder of the knowledge now and the past of my time which I will pass on to younger generations. It’s very important that they carry the right knowledge into the future to stop this pain from keep happening."

Uncle Widdy is committed to sharing his story to make positive change and inroads for a fairer and more equal society. “I don’t want people to give us sympathy; we want understanding, knowledge about what we’re doing, and to be treated equally like everybody else. There are different nations living on this land they call Australia. When I was a child, Australia was called, Wongaibon or Wailwan land, and we have all different diversities of nationalities in our own communities now, and each and every one of them bleeds the same colour blood. There is no difference they have the same pain as everybody else. You can’t measure the pain of somebody else’s worse than yours, pain is pain. How you measure it is by your own individual self. We are all equal, and we bleed the same way.”

“They wanted me to change my name because they thought it could be a problem but I’m proud of who I am. If I was to change my name, I wouldn’t be true to myself and couldn’t stand in front of people telling them to be proud of their personal story so I kept it. Jihad means striving or struggling or to work for a noble cause with determination. That’s what I’m trying to do every day for my electorate and for a more equal and inclusive Australia.”

Born in Tripoli, Lebanon, Jihad migrated to Australia with his family when he was three years old. “My parents were also born in Tripoli and they came here like many families for a better life, to give us the opportunities that we didn’t have over there. We’ve been blessed, we’ve had a wonderful life. I wouldn’t have been able to achieve what I have, had it not been for everything Australia has given me.” The father of three lives in Sydney. He’s the first Muslim/Lebanese MP to represent Lakemba and the first Muslim MP in the NSW Legislative Assembly in 160 years. Punchbowl Boys High School’s former principal has been subjected to racist taunts on social media, targeting his name and religion. Jihad’s proud of his heritage and is a strong advocate for our multicultural society.

Jihad fearlessly stands up for those who don’t have a voice and is tirelessly fighting to improve living standards for vulnerable people in need. In 2023, Jihad is the NSW ALP Minister for Customer Service and Digital Government, Minister for Emergency Services and Minister for Youth Justice.
 

 “I really feel that as an Australian that a great wrong has been done to these people and we should try and redress the imbalance here and make it a country that’s fairer for people from other countries coming in and people who were here before we were here. I mean their voice needs to be acknowledged. Other countries have treaties with these people, we don’t. There’s no treaty!” 

Jim has achieved extraordinary global success as a leading songwriter, guitarist, vocalist, keyboardist and founder of one of Australia’s most prolific bands, Midnight Oil. He has performed for over 45 years, mixing their famous hard-rock music with politics, espousing their anti-nuclear, environmentalist, Indigenous causes and socialist beliefs. In 1987, their 1st major hit song, Beds are Burning, demanded that white Australia give back the land appropriated from Indigenous people. The song topped the charts worldwide, changing lives and minds. The album Diesel and Dust focused on the need for recognition of past injustices and the demand for justice. 

Ernie is a Hungarian Ghetto survivor and Holocaust survivor. He was born in 1935 in Vienna, Austria; his mother, Amalie, was Viennese/ Austrian, and his father, Laszlo, Hungarian. They were forced out in 1938 due to the Anschluss* and settled in Hungary; his father’s birthplace. “After my father was taken away in a forced labour division, my mother and I at seven years of age, were rounded up to be deported to an unknown destination. The railway stations were bombed out, so they had to march us. On the way, as my mother spoke very poor Hungarian, she spoke to me in German. The guards were half Hungarian Nazis; the ArrowCross, the other half were German soldiers. One German soldier overheard my mother talk to me in German and he started a discussion with her. I still remember him saying, “We’re under orders! We don’t necessarily like it, but we must follow orders.” After about 4 or 5 hours, it started to get dark. It was the winter of 1944. Again this German soldier came up to my mother and whispered something to her. I didn’t hear what he said but a minute or two later my mother suggested to me that I fix up her shoelaces and as I went down to fix her laces she grabbed me and we rolled down the side of the road. Pretty much it was the end of the line and luckily no one noticed us. The German soldier took a huge risk because he suggested it to her and if they found out he would have been shot.” Ernie and his mother were captured three weeks later and taken to a ghetto. They were in captivity for seven weeks until the Russians liberated them. Tragically, his father, at 43 years of age, died in the Gunskirchen camp in Austria, and the rest of his family did not survive the concentration camps except for three cousins.

“More people like you should have been put in the oven,” Ernie recalls the worst racist moment he had ever encountered in Sydney.

Ernie arrived in Australia at 15 and learnt English at night school. He’s never looked back and has dedicated his life to educating young people about racism and bigotry, promoting respect for diversity and inclusive society. He’s forever grateful to the German soldier, “The bravery and humanity shown by that German soldier was a huge turning point. It gave me for the rest of my life a guide not to discriminate and not to be prejudiced and see actually the people for what they are, as individuals and circumstances during the war certainly made people do things that were horrific, some of them are inexcusable but this particular German soldier, his act of humanity, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him.” The father of 3 is recognised for his tireless work eradicating racism and bigotry.

In 2006, Ernie received the Order of Australia for his role in the Moving Forward organisation he founded, working in the area of anti-racism and prejudice prevention.

* Anschluss, German: “Union”, political union of Austria with Germany, achieved through annexation by Adolf Hitler in 1938

 “It was always going to be interesting growing up a child of migrant Asian background in Sydney. Doing so in the 1990s during debates about Asian immigration when you had politicians like Pauline Hanson claiming Asians were swamping Australia, people like my parents and me. It certainly forced me to question national identity and think about what it means to be Australian.”

Born in Montpellier, France, to Chinese/Lao parents, Tim lives with his wife and son in Sydney. He grew up speaking French and Lao, his first languages, before migrating to Australia with his parents when he was three. Tim was Australia’s Race Discrimination Commissioner at the Australian Human Rights Commission from 2013-2018, a Professor of Practice (Sociology and Political Theory) at the University of Sydney and Director of Culture Strategy. In that role, he helped lead the university’s efforts to build a culture that supports its teaching, research and service to society. A political theorist and human rights advocate, Tim’s thinking on multiculturalism, patriotism and national identity has influenced debates in Australia and Britain. “It’s unfortunate that there are elements of our media who feed racism and fuel prejudice and discrimination. It’s not all sections of the media, but some sections of the media, quite frankly, use racism as part of their business model. They use it to generate controversy, they use it to fuel hostility against certain groups, and they do it because they believe it does something good for their business.” Tim’s the author of 5 books, On Hate; I’m Not Racist But…: 40 years of the Race Discrimination Act; Don’t Go Back to Where You Came From; The Virtuous Citizen and Reclaiming Patriotism. He’s a regular columnist for various publications, including the SMH and The Age. Tim also wrote and presented the award-winning Mongrel Nation, a six-part documentary series on ABC’s Radio National about Australian multiculturalism. Tim is currently the Chief Diversity Officer and Professor at the University of Oxford and Balliol College Fellow.

“Where’s the justice? They killed my son, David Dungay Jr. He was eating a packet of biscuits and five guards stormed into his cell and ten minutes later my son was dead. No one’s been held accountable. Still no answers because it’s a racist system. Our people are still being slaughtered! I will not stop speaking out until I get justice.”

Dunghutti elder, Leetona Dungay was born 13th March 1960 in Kempsey, the Dunghutti nation in NSW. “In my day, I was going to school and aiming for my goals. I played a lot of sports so did all my children. Then I was thinking how come they always put us in the corner at school. So they put all the Aboriginal people in AO class , dunce class it’s called. I just want equality but there’s no equality because of the colour of my skin.”

Leetona had her youngest son of four, David Dungay Jr., in Kempsey at Old Burnt Bridge Reserve. “He was a proud Dunghutti warrior who loved sports, especially rugby league and was happy-go lucky, kind and loving. He was always there for his siblings when they needed him. He served his time and was ready to come home but never had the chance. The pain of losing him never goes away.” Leetona has been thrust into the spotlight, becoming a prominent activist for First Nations people, after losing her 26-year-old son, David, on December 29, 2015, to a tragic death in custody in Sydney’s Long Bay Prison hospital where he had been an involuntary patient inmate. David served a custodial sentence of nine years and six months with a non-parole period of 5 years and six months. He was sentenced on June 26, 2009, at 20 years of age, and served time for assault, aggravated attempted sexual assault, and being involved in a robbery relating to a home invasion. He was due to be considered for parole on February 2, 2016. He had been diagnosed with chronic schizophrenia, was acutely psychotic and was a Type 1 diabetic.

During the afternoon of December 29, 2015, David retrieved some rice crackers and biscuits from his belongings, returned to his cell, and began to eat them. Nursing and correctional staff within the ward where David was housed expressed some concern about this situation given David’s elevated blood sugar levels which had been measured earlier that day. Requests were made of David to return his biscuits and crackers; he refused. This resulted in David being forcibly removed by correctional officers from his cell to a different cell so that his condition could be observed. There he was held face down by five officers – David yelled in distress, 12 times “I can’t breathe”. David’s pleas were ignored. Meanwhile a nurse rushed into the cell and administered a fast-acting sedative. He died moments later. Less than 10 minutes after he was removed from his cell, David Dungay Jr was dead.

Evidence of the tragedy was filmed and shown at a Coronial Inquest. “ He had  no weapon, no nothing. They killed him. He was eating biscuits and then he was dead. Why don’t they tell the truth?” cried Leetona. A coronial inquest into David’s death was held in 2019 and found he died from cardiac arrhythmia, with contributing factors including his diabetes, antipsychotic medication, and extreme stress and agitation. At the time, deputy state coroner, Derek Lee rejected a submission from Mr Dungay’s family that the officers involved be referred for disciplinary action.

To this day, neither an individual nor an institution has been held accountable for David’s death. His heartbroken mother, Leetona who has exhausted all avenues in Australia and with the help of her legal team - George Newhouse - co founder of the National Justice Project, Geoffrey Roberston KC and Barrister Jennifer Robinson at Doughty Street International, London, has taken her fight for justice to the United Nations seeking to hold the Australian Commonwealth and the NSW government to accountable for their failure to protect David Dungay Jr.’s right to life and right to effective remedy, and for the systemic failures of successive governments and institutions to implement the 339 recommendations of the 1991 Royal Commission into Aboriginal Deaths in Custody, the systemic failures of the legal system to allow families of victims to secure accountability and justice, and the violations of international human rights law that has produced the worsening crisis of First Nations deaths in custody.

“I hope this opens the door for all First Nations people. The pain is so great. We’ve got to resolve this pain. How can you have over 440 victims and no one gets charged or held accountable. I want the United Nations to say loud and clear to our racist government, ‘No more Aboriginal deaths in Custody.’ Black lives matter. David’s life mattered.”

 Keenan is a proud First Nations man with connections to the Biripi Nation of NSW through his mum, who was from Taree and ties to the Wakka Wakka Nation in Queensland through his Dad, who was from Cherbourg. Keenan is the youngest of three boys, born on March 20, 1987, and raised on Gadigal land.

He grew up in Redfern, the infamous “Block” in Sydney. “My community was a very challenging community to navigate.” He had a rough start to his childhood. After losing both parents at seven years of age, he was separated from his siblings and placed in care at another Aboriginal community near La Perouse, South-eastern Sydney.

“I was exposed to things that no child should see, there was a lot of violence, domestic violence, a lot of police, a lot of drugs and my household wasn’t the most supportive and was unable to provide for my siblings and me. At the age of 6 or 7 I lost my mum to a drug overdose and not long after that my father was found in a car park across the road from my school after committing suicide. I was taken away from my siblings to another Aboriginal community just out next to La Perouse and none of my early childhood experiences were acknowledged or treated and it went on to affect me in many ways. I was in year 3 and went to a Primary school that couldn’t accommodate me in many ways. I was bullied and teased. Some of the things that were said to me really made me hate myself, hate my skin and hate my life.”

 At 14, Keenan was surviving by paying for food with the money he earned, stealing computers and phones, and ending up in jail. “I was placed in a dorm with 30 other boys; there were nine and 10-year-old boys in there that had been there for months.” Keenan spent years in and out of the juvenile detention and prison systems (15 years in and out of prison – the longest stretch was four years).

Each time he was released, he would return to the streets and take alcohol and drugs. The cycle would continue until he met his now wife, Carly, a proud Wiradjuri woman with a Masters’s Degree in Criminology (Deadly Connections - CEO & Founder) and turned his life around. Keenan became an influential Aboriginal activist and promoted peace, love and positivity like his idol Nelson Mandela.

 

 “Indigenous people in this country; we experience racism in this country every day.”

“Racism makes me feel less than human, insignificant, like I’m not even here. Today I know that we need to stand up and be proud of who we are. We are in our country and that cannot be ignored.”

Thomas is a Zenadth Kes (Torres Strait Islander) man born and raised in Larrakia Country in Darwin. He’s a National Indigenous Officer at the Northern Territory Branch Sect Maritime Union of Australia and Signatory of the Uluru Statement from the Heart. Thomas treasures the days in his country, growing up on the mainland when he learned to hunt traditional foods with his father and island dance. In high school, Thomas’s English teacher suggested he should become a writer. Instead, at 17 years of age, he became a wharf labourer, gained tremendous confidence, became a union official for the Maritime Union of Australia, found his voice on the wharves, and used it to work towards advancing the rights of Indigenous Australians. The father of 5 became a signatory to the Uluru Statement from the Heart and a tireless campaigner. He’s entrusted to carry the Statement’s sacred painted canvas around the country to garner support for a constitutionally enshrined First Nations voice and a Makarrata Commission for truth-telling and agreement-making treaties.

“First Nations people are still not recognised in our own country and that’s based on racism. The Constitution has a racist section in it which is section 51(xxvi) which allows the government to make special laws for a race of people and it’s only being used for First Nations people.” Thomas believes that we’ll only find the heart of our nation when the First peoples – the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders, are recognised with a representative Voice enshrined in the Australian Constitution. The father of five is a fearless human rights campaigner and an active advocate for refugee rights, regularly calling for their release from indefinite detention at peaceful protests in Darwin and is outspoken against recent Youth Law Reforms in the Northern Territory.

Thomas also became a writer, as his teacher suggested, becoming one of the first Torres Strait Islander authors to have published books for general trade. His books are an excellent and vital insight into First Nations culture;

Dear Son – Letters and reflections from First Nations fathers

Finding Our Heart – about the Uluru Statement for young Australians

Finding the Heart of the Nation – an essential and unique book full of stories about extraordinary people who will take you on an unforgettable journey to a place where you can start a new beginning, “In 1967 we were counted, in 2017 we seek to be heard. We leave base camp and start our trek across this vast country. We invite you to walk with us in a movement of the Australian people for a better future.”

 “I can never imagine a situation that you’re on the correct side of racism. My experiences of being subjected to racism and or dealing with racist individuals has fuelled my passion and desire to help create greater understanding of one another. If we’re to stop racism, through education and exhibitions like We Bleed The Same, we need to reduce fear of the unknown and judgement that is strictly based on the colour of someone’s skin. Growing up in Sydney I feel very fortunate not to have been subjected to extreme forms of racism although there were times I didn’t feel safe. Racism is still an ongoing issue within our community and we must work together to stop it. Covert and causal racism is commonplace for someone like me. These experiences have helped to shape me and fuel my desire to help make positive change for those with archaic and ignorant mindsets.”

Born in Paddington, Sydney, on the 31st of January 1996, Dylan grew up in the Eastern suburbs to Australian/Lebanese, Irish parents. He’s a university student studying Sports Management and works as a football programs manager and coach.

Dylan strives to create a greater understanding of one another, embrace and learn more about different cultures, impart that knowledge to his peers and future generations, and hopefully create a more inclusive Australia.

 

“Don’t let them take your power. Racism is just ignorance! I use humour to build rapport to change their mind because I’m comfortable in my own skin.”

Jack Hanna was born in Kunming, China. He immigrated to Australia with his family in 1995. The father of two has worked in the Hospitality industry for nearly 20 years.

Jack founded The Grounds of Alexandria Group Sydney in 2012 which quickly become an international venue; consecutive years ranked in the top 10 most visited places in Australia (Instagram). Jack is also the youngest-ever World Latte Champion. He won the first official Australian Latte Art championship and claimed Australia’s second consecutive world title in Belgium in 2007. Jack was surprised when he became a hero in the coffee world to other Asian baristas after becoming the first Asian champion of any world coffee competition. He inspired fellow Asian baristas to pursue their careers in an industry where they previously felt unacknowledged.

Jack now heads up a podcast called “The Easy Road”, talking to people from all walks of life who have made it to the ‘top’, discussing the trials and tribulations of their journey. 

“People are expected to shed their identity, shed their cultural heritage to become Australian, whatever that means and that for me is not what it’s about. I think what it means to be Australian is different to everyone.”

Born in London to Nigerian parents, Francis was raised in England and Nigeria.

He moved to Australia in 1988. Francis is a former Socceroo, Lawyer, Labour Law, Human Rights Advocate, Professional Footballers Australia (PFA) and FIFA PRO Rep Asia. Francis worked alongside Craig Foster on the #SaveHakeem Campaign, galvanising international bodies and contacts to ensure they did everything possible to save 25-year-old former refugee and footballer Hakeem al-Araibi. Hakeem al-Araibi was detained in Thailand and faced extradition to Bahrain, where he’d be imprisoned and tortured for a crime he didn’t commit. The campaign to save Al-Araibi trended in 81 countries, reaching over 30 million people. There were 1.7 million who had shared something, making it one of the most successful social media campaigns in Australian history. In the end, the peoples’ power saved Hakeem al-Araibi. Francis continues to fight for the rights of all people who experience indifference, racism and bigotry.

 

 “Living in the United States was like being in shackles! I didn’t feel like I could reach my full potential. I can be myself living in Australia; I’m not always looking over my shoulder. I feel safe and free to be me.” Shel Morris.  

I grew up quickly because I also had to look after my brother, who was five years younger than me when my mother went to work. We had to stay inside the house, so we watched a lot of television together.”

“Despite feeling like an outsider, I didn’t experience racism until I was an adult, or maybe I didn’t notice it when I was younger. I always dressed well and had my hair cut, so I had a positive experience in school. My teachers were supportive, and I got good grades. Later, as an adult, I realised I was being ignored in shops and didn’t get served; people would look at me suspiciously. I was watched in restaurants; wherever I went, it was unnerving. I’d keep my head down so I could stay safe and not attract any trouble. But here in Australia, I’ve only had positive experiences. I’ve been asked twice by older white women for assistance, which would never happen in the States. No one is afraid of me here simply because I am Black.”

In August 1995, when Shel was 24, he tragically lost his 19-year-old brother, Crosby, “We weren’t notified about his whereabouts and situation until days later. We were devastated to learn that my younger brother was dead. My parents had to go down to the morgue to identify his body. I didn’t want to go because I was in shock. I couldn’t face it. We found out that he was killed by police a few nights before. He was driving on his way home when he was pulled over by police near a McDonalds in Prince George’s County, Maryland, just outside Washington, DC. They claimed he had drugs on him and tried to swallow a bag of marijuana. A homeless man later reported that he had witnessed drugs being shoved down his throat. Who tries to swallow a bag of marijuana? It made no sense. Crosby collapsed and couldn’t be revived. We were heartbroken and in extreme shock; we were told that he died from “accidental” suffocation and suffered brain damage. He had been taken to the hospital. His next of kin was never notified. His life support was switched off without permission from our family. We didn’t get a chance to see him in the hospital and say goodbye! His organs could have been donated as well. We were gutted and angry; we couldn’t get justice for him and my family. There was no closure!”

 “I’ve experienced racial slurs, racial vilification, many times, in school, on the footy field, on the street, the N word, being called black c…, blackie, whatever, these things are common. I’ve even been followed by police who didn’t believe I lived in the eastern suburbs of Sydney. There’s no excuse these days to be ignorant but I combat racism by sharing my stories and positive attitude in life through my music as a rap artist. This is how I’m trying to create change.”

Born on 14 February 1996 in Sydney, Cocoa’s parents are Ghanaian/Lebanese/Australian.

Cocoa is a Rap artist and songwriter. He’s been subjected to racism for most of his life and tackles it now through his music.

As a young person, he’s astonished by the lack of understanding about people from diverse cultures, “My teacher would always get my name wrong, my name’s Cocoa but she’d get my name wrong and call me Choco. I’d correct her and the class would too but she’d say, ’Oh it’s because I put Choco in my coffee every morning.’ She’d keep getting it wrong. We reported her but nothing was done about it. She kept saying I reminded her of the Choco she had in her morning coffee and she didn’t mean anything by it. It’s racist and it did affect me, it was annoying, get my name right! It didn’t sit right.”

Cocoa writes about his experiences and uses his music to confront social issues, racism and prejudice to spread understanding and love for humanity. 

"The word Aboriginal was like a word that described a group of people but you didn’t really know anything about them. You certainly weren’t taught about them at school. You were taught about the Queens and Kings of England.”

Born June 23, 1947, father of three, Bryan Brown is a leading actor and producer in Australia’s film and television industry, spanning a successful career over four decades. It all started in a housing commission in Panania, southwestern Sydney, where he grew up with his Mum, Molly and sister, Kristine. He worked as an actuarial student at AMP, a non-profit insurance company and mutual society, before heading overseas to pursue an acting career. “At 25, I sold my car, bought a ticket to go to England and told everyone that I was an actor. There were a few silly buggers over there that believed me and I got a job as an actor, and that started that professionally.”

The iconic Aussie actor never looked back, performing in over 80 films, working in 25 countries, and appearing in a stream of Australian hits. Successful Hollywood productions including The Chant of Jimmie, Blacksmith-directed by Fred Schepisi; critically acclaimed

- Breaker Morant (1980) directed by Bruce Beresford; Give My Regards to Broad Street (1984) with Paul McCartney; F/X (1986); Tai-pan (1986); Internationally successful TV series, “A Town like Alice” (1981); Gorillas in the Mist (1988); Two Hands (1999); Cocktail with Tom Cruise (1988); Along Came Polly (2004) with Ben Stiller and Jennifer Aniston and The Thorn Birds (1983) which also starred Rachel Ward (whom he married in 1983). He also appeared in Red Dog: True Blue (2016) and Sweet Country (2017). Produced and starred in Palm Beach (directed by his wife) and the 2019 TV series Bloom. Bryan’s won many awards, including the prestigious Longford Lyell Award at the 2018 AACTAs recognising his contribution to Australian cinema. He’s one of Australia’s most prolific and loved actors and utilises his high profile for positive change, including fighting for the survival of the Australian film industry, refugee children locked up in detention and packing essential food items at a charity organisation in Sydney for the disadvantaged. The charismatic storyteller has also starred in many theatre productions and fondly reflects on his time with the historic Black Theatre in Redfern, formed in 1972 (which grew out of political struggle), performing with trailblazers, including Gerry and Lester Bostock, Gary Foley and Marcia Langton.

“The first real time I really came across anything different to Anglo was when I came back to Australia and I got the opportunity to work at the Black Theatre in Redfern and there was a play being done there by Gerry Bostock and the play was called ‘Here comes a N****’ It was a chant that was levelled at this character in the play by other young kids around the place and it was a story about a black man and his relationship with a white woman. I played a Vietnam Vet who was the brother of the woman and I hated the fact that she was connected to an Aboriginal fella. Because it was in Redfern, all the Indigenous people were as comfortable as you like, I was the one that was uncomfortable. I wouldn’t go out on a Friday night in Redfern unless I had one of the boys from the play with me. It was a little volatile but a lot of fun.” Bryan has mastered storytelling on the stage and screen and has extended his skills to writing, releasing a highly anticipated debut crime novel, Sweet Jimmy.

“I left my family and home in Sri Lanka behind because I wanted to come to Australia for safety and peace but they took away my freedom. I was locked up in indefinite detention for nearly 8 years, without being told why. Even the worst criminal has the right to know his sentence. I lost hope and tried to end it all.”

Thanush is a 31-year-old Sri Lankan Tamil and Hindu refugee, human rights advocate and refugee activist is currently living on Sydney’s north shore.

At 23 years of age, Thanush fled persecution in Sri Lanka by boat in pursuit of a new life filled with opportunities, freedom and safety. But his dream was shattered when his boat was intercepted on its way to Australia. He then embarked on a treacherous journey, enduring nearly eight years of indefinite detention, first on Christmas Island for 45 days and then transferred against his will to Manus Island in late 2013, where he was locked up in offshore detention for more than six years. In 2016, Thanush was granted refugee status while in Papua New Guinea but still remained in detention. He saw no way out; in 2018, while in hotel detention in Port Moresby, he attempted suicide. “I’d lost my hope. I had nothing, no freedom; this is no life, no hope for a future”. He spent a month in the hospital recovering, and in August 2019, he was transferred to Australia for chronic physical and mental health treatment under the now-repealed Medevac legislation.

Thanush was housed in a Melbourne hotel designated as an alternative Place of Detention before enduring a further 16 months in an immigration detention facility where he was detained with close to 180 people while they received medical treatment. “I needed treatment for my mental health issues; I thought being in Australia would change my life, but again I was in detention in the Mantra Hotel (Melbourne). I spent 23 hours inside my room which was very difficult, and I needed help. Why do they treat us like this? This is no life!” Despite no end in sight, he headed into the New Year of 2021 with renewed hope for his future. His dream was realised in January 2021 when he was suddenly released, a government decision based on cost-cutting. “Of course, I’m delighted to be free, but I need time to recover from all those years taken away from me. It was wrong, and it was torture!” After months of government-funded accommodation, Thanush has had to seek shelter and food through friends and charities in Sydney. While he can work under his six- month bridging VISA, he has no right to study under his VISA conditions, which makes it extraordinarily difficult to reach his aspirations.

“It’s tough to work for my future. I have another 3-month VISA, but I must apply again at the end of the year. I don’t know what will happen.” Despite the challenges he faces, Thanush hasn’t forgotten his friends and fellow refugees still locked up in detention and spends as much time as possible advocating for their release and calling for ‘permanent’ resettlement options. Thanush is still chasing his dream, “I want to become a fitness instructor and photographer and build a life in Australia and give back to a country which will hopefully give me a chance!”

“I went to hell and back. I just want peace. I try to fit in and contribute but it’s hard here (in Australia) for Africans.”

Born in 1983 near Malek, a small fishing village in South Sudan near the White Nile River. Deng grew up in a family of 42 children – his father had six wives. When civil war broke out in the 1980s, four of his brothers joined the rebel forces. At just six, Deng was forced to join the Sudan People’s Liberation Army; at eight, he was trained to use an AK-47. He was shot in the back when fighting broke out in a raid. At 12, he was smuggled out of Sudan by his older brother and once awarded refugee status, Deng was sponsored by Christian Aid to start a new life alone in Australia in 1998. Here, he taught himself English by watching the Wiggles. In time, Deng completed a law degree at Western Sydney University and is a Partner at AC Law Group, where he works as a Defence Lawyer. His John Mac Foundation, named after his brother who saved his life (he died in 2014 in South Sudan), helps students from refugee backgrounds transition into the workforce.

In 2017 he was recognised as the NSW Australian of the Year. Deng is also a community leader and author of the best-selling memoir; Songs of a War Boy. 

 “I received a letter filled with racist hate speech which included a death threat to me and all Asians. It started like this, ‘This country was built by white Australian people. You will never be a part of this country. No matter how much you breed or try to breed with other nationalities your kind will continue to have the ugliest picture, like slanted eyes, and the ugliest yellow skin and hair that wouldn’t be good enough to wipe the Australian public’s arse, especially when you stole all our toilet paper and shipped it all to China.’”

“That is Racism!. It’s distressing and shocking but I’m not worried about me, I fear for the safety of my wife and family.”

Kun was born in Fuzhou, China, in 1990 and migrated with his parents to Australia in 1999. “The reason my parents decided to migrate to Australia is because they wanted a better life for me and they believed that Australia could deliver that.” Kun’s parents settled in Sutherland, “Growing up in an unfamiliar space is scary and daunting, especially for a 9 year old who didn’t even speak the language nor knows anyone. School is the place where I first encountered racism, “Go back to your boat” became the common phrase by those who wanted to ensure my difference was noticeable.”

Kun now lives in Sydney’s west with his wife and works in the finance sector Union. In 2017 he was elected as a Cumberland City Labor Councillor. He’s determined to make a difference and work towards a more inclusive society. The rise in Anti-Asian sentiment during the global pandemic deeply concerns Kun, who was subjected to racism in a targeted attack threatening him, other Australian/Asian councillors, and the wider Australian-Chinese community. “I’ve been a councillor for three and a half years now and never received anything like this before. I’ve seen a lot of crazy letters when I worked for federal and state MPs, but this letter was disgusting.” Among the insults in the letter was a personal death threat to him and all Chinese people, who were blamed for the COVID pandemic and were accused of stealing all the milk powder, buying up all the houses and bringing disease to Australia for centuries. “Only White Australians had built Australia and all Chinese people are to be killed by fumigation.” The threatening letter was one of four sent to other Australian/Asian councillors amidst a surge in race hate attacks during the pandemic, which has renewed calls for a centralised hate tracker and raised concerns about putting people off standing for its public positions. NSW police were investigating the racist letter sent to Kun, but they dropped the case through lack of evidence. Kun is not deterred from speaking out and taking a stance against this unacceptable behaviour. The 31-year-old calls on the government to take action against those who threaten our multicultural society by attacking people based on their religion and cultural background.

Kun Huang is the former Deputy Mayor at Cumberland City Council and currently an Advisor to the Hon Andrew Giles MP, Ministerfor Immigration, Citizenship and Multicultural Affairs.

“Whenever I experienced racism which was frequent across the course of my life my initial instinct was to fight back and that often meant getting into arguments. I remember in Primary school being called a black plastic bag because of the colour of my skin or people saying my skin was the same colour as poo. Throughout high school even more so my response was to fight back and stand up for myself. Coming from a Sikh community we have a long standing history of oppression or injustice so I was very much fuelled by that history. The impact that racism had on me was this feeling of not knowing where I belonged so much so that it manifested in the forms of identity issues; me trying to be something that I’m not, running away from my culture to lose fluency in my mother’s tongue Punjabi because I didn’t think it was cool or acceptable. I pulled away from our music, our culture, our practices, doing so not knowing how much harm it was doing to me.”

Sukhdeep Singh Bhogal goes by the name of L- FRESH The LION. The acronym F.R.E.S.H. stands for Forever Rising Exceeding Sudden Hardships, while the L and LION refer to the middle name, Singh, which is given to Sikh men.

Born October 12, 1988, in Liverpool, on Dharawal land, he was brought up in South West Sydney with a younger brother. His parents, born in Punjab, India, migrated to Australia in the mid to late 80s and settled in Glenfield. L-FRESH the LION is Sikh, an activist, producer, and Hip Hop Artist - leading the conversation about Australian identity through his music. He’s become one of Australia’s most influential Hip Hop artists, making powerful statements for equality and inclusion. He inspired the Sydney Kings basketball team to choose L-FRESH the Lion to pen and perform their team song, ‘We The Kings’. Inspired by his Sikh and Punjab roots, L-FRESH performed his debut single, ‘Born To Stand Out’ on the MTV Hussle (MTV India) stage for audiences across India. In the time since his ARIA nominated album, ‘BECOME’, was released in 2016, L-FRESH has taken his music to the world and addressed the United Nations in New York in late 2018. He was selected as an ambassador for YouTube’s creators for the Change Global Initiative with his resulting video ‘RACIST / Our World’ premiering at the Tribeca Festival in New York. The proud South West Sydney artist continues to break new ground with his music and has performed alongside Nas, Talib Kweli, Dead Prez, and the legendary Sir Elton John. In 2020, L-FRESH released his third studio album, ‘SOUTH WEST’ – a love letter to the place that raised him – South West Sydney; a place that continues to inspire him. He dedicated the album to his 13-year- old self, a collection of lessons he wished he had learnt as a kid on how to be confident and hold pride in your culture. “I’ve shared my experiences and stories as a second-generation migrant kid existing between two cultures and the ongoing effects of Australia’s inherently racist culture. The album is a personal take on the process of decolonisation; it’s both a listening and political experience.”

L-FRESH is unrelenting in his work for the community, helping the vulnerable, supporting and fighting for refugee rights and assisting migrants settling in the community. He is a strong and passionate advocate for human rights and equality.